Why Me? One-Shot
by Phoenix-164
Summary: Completely, totaly, and utterly random one shot involving Holmes, a squemish Watson, James Bond, and oh yeah, my OC kid w/ wings-Ryan Fox. Written from Ryan's perspective with a fair bit of humor and Watson bashing. Please Read and Review, you will LOL!


**This is a completely random one shot in an AU. Really off the wall but humorus none the less. Jus a random idea found wandering in my head. Feel free to review and all comments welcome!**

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How do I always manage to get myself into these situations, I wondered, as I ran through the ally with bullets tearing up the pavement at my heels. I dove to the right and the last bullet thudded into the wall where I had just been standing. A quick look up told me that there were still too many clotheslines to do an up and away safely so I kept on running.

Soon I came to a low balcony, roughly 12 feet up. I made a jump, grasped the railing and pulled myself up before taking a deep breath and climbing up the stone walls that were just rough enough to give me a grip. Once on the roof I climbed to the apex to see if the shooter was still there.

Evidently he was, because as soon as my eyes appeared over the top, I heard a shot and a neat hole appeared in the roof beside me. I decided a fast up and away was my best shot so I went to the far end of the roof and got a good running start before hurling myself off the edge and unfurling all 16 feet of my glorious metallic gray wings. I lost a few feet of altitude before flapping and rising above the roof. I quickly gained altitude all the while hearing the gunman taking pot shots at me un-till I had reached nearly 3,000 feet.

There was a strong breeze ruffling my feathers but it felt wonderful after so long on the ground. Scanning the rooftops I spotted the gunman easily enough, he was very tall, had jet-black hair, and handled his weapon with confidence. He loosed one more round before quickly walking to a fire escape and descending into the maze of allies.

There was no chance of me following him through the maze so I flew home, landed in a forgotten courtyard around back before slipping in my rear door. This was getting ridiculous, I thought as I sat down. I have been shot at three times this week all by the same person. I must find out who he is. I get up and go get my phone book; it conveniently falls open to the private detective page.

As I scan the pages an add catches my eye, it says "Sherlock Holmes, private investigator for hire." I had heard this name previously but never met him, I also knew about his wonderful reputation. I immediately decided to call him. He answered soon after I dialed the number and I quickly introduced myself as Ryan Fox and explained that there had recently been several attempts on my life and I needed to know by whom and why. He immediately replied that he and Watson would be over in about an hour. I was tired after flying so I stretched out my wings, lay down on the couch and quickly fell asleep.

I awoke nearly an hour and a half later upon hearing my doorbell ring. Yelling that the door was un-locked I stood up and stretched. I heard a great thump behind me and spun to see Watson on the floor in a dead faint and Holmes leaning against the doorway, mouth wide open in shock.

My first thought was "What is he staring at?" My second was "Awww, shoot my wings. Well he was going to figure it out eventually."

I quickly folded my wings against my back while Holmes just stared.

He recovered rather quickly though and managed to stutter out "Are you an angel?"

I rolled my eyes and couldn't help but laugh before replying, of course not.

Quickly changing the subject and suggesting that we move Watson out of the hall, he responded, "Of course."

We moved Watson to the couch in the living room before going to the kitchen so I could explain what I knew about the man who was hunting me, which I must admit was not a lot. About half way through our conversation Watson joined us still looking slightly dazed. Holmes agreed to try and track down my attacker and he said he would watch tomorrow and see if anyone was following me. By the time they left it was nearly midnight so I quickly fell asleep after they left.

The next day I went about my business as usual for I had a job at a local restaurant. I am very observant but I did not notice Watson or Holmes until an incident later that evening.

I was walking my normal side street home when I heard someone walking quickly behind me. My first thought was that it must be the sniper so I turned a corner and snatched up a rather large trashcan lid. I waited just around the corner until I heard someone approach, then I swung the lid with all my might hitting my follower right in the face.

Jumping around the corner to see who it was, I was slightly shocked to see Watson bent over with a bloody nose. Oops...

I apologized profusely and gave him my handkerchief. I explained that I had not known it was him and continued to apologize. He assured me that no real harm had been done and gave me the most wonderful news; he and Holmes had made a break in the case. He said that they would come over tomorrow to discuss what they had found. Once again I apologized before thanking him and continuing on my way.

When I returned home I could tell that something was not quite right with the house. My mail on the table had been moved and the door to my room was ajar. In the living room there was a note, it said that if I cared for the safety of Holmes and Watson then I would tell them to stay away. This freaked me out and I realized that the shooter must have been listening to my conversation with Watson.

I immediately called Holmes and told him about the note. He seemed rather un-concerned, told me that he had a plan, and would still be coming over tomorrow. I went to bed that night with a great feeling of unease.

The next day went on as usual but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. The sun had just set when Holmes and Watson arrived at my house. We set down in the kitchen and had begun to ask what they had learned when there was a loud crack and the lights went out.

Holmes and I immediately dove under the table but Watson was not quite as fast or as lucky because as soon as I hit the floor there was a loud pop and he gave a short yelp, fell off his chair, and was silent.

I turned to Holmes and said rather sarcastically "Was this part of your plan?"

He quickly replied "No."

Quickly crawling over to Watson I immediately noticed a dart of some kind in his leg and that he was still breathing. Holmes said calmly that whoever it was must want me alive.

Great, just wonderful I think to myself. I decide that I will try and make a run for it. I tell Holmes and we start to crawl towards the back door. We make it to the door and I go first sprinting towards the ally with Holmes following right behind.

Immediately there is a pop, shortly followed by a loud thud. I glance over my shoulder and see that Holmes has been hit.

Just then I trip and reaching out to break my fall I hear my wrist snap. I gasp and try to turn over when I see a tall figure walking quickly towards me, it can only be the mysterious sniper carrying a pistol. Immediately trying to crawl away backwards I realize that it is futile.

When I again turn to face him I see a face that you would never notice walking down the street but if you were to notice, it was one that you could never forget. I can only ask "Who are you?"

He simply replied "Bond, James Bond"

My brain immediately thinks, whoa, whoa, whoa, he doesn't actually exist! He proved real enough though when he raised the gun and shot me in the shoulder with a dart. My vision quickly blurred and I only had time for one thought," Just my luck, a fictional character comes to life just to hunt me down."

Then I sank into the darkness.


End file.
